


VGStuck

by Bloodwolf



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe- Video Games, Bully, Chrono Trigger - Freeform, Cross-overs, Fluff, One-Shot Collection, Yep., video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodwolf/pseuds/Bloodwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just random video game related one-shots.</p><p>Mostly GamTav, but might have other pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chrono Trigger

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. 
> 
> Because I love video games as much as Homestuck.
> 
> No I am not sorry.
> 
> Most of these will prolly have GamTav one way or another.
> 
> But I'll probably do others.
> 
> This one's based on the game Chrono Trigger.

The End of Time. It certainly had a nice ring to it.

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are currently sitting on the lone stairway at the end of the ominous platform, taking in a much needed break, and thinking about the decision you recently made that could be potentially fatal to you and your friends.

The decision to destroy an entity that's responsible for the annihilation of your world in the far off future.

Lavos.

You have no idea what made you say yes. It could be the sudden surge of bravery that grew from watching the devastating footage play in the dome, added with the will to change it, or it could be the fear of your world reducing to nothing but rubble and ash. It could also be Aradia and Gamzee both giving you almost pleading looks when they asked.

You could never say no to Aradia's puppy-dog like eyes. Your biggest injuries in your entire lifetime were the result of that deceptive look. Add Gamzee's, who's look was equivalent to a kicked kitten, and they might as well have thrown you at Lavos by yourself.

Turing your head to find your said friends, you're met with an image that you would never have believed if it wasn't for the most recent events that transpired in the last few hours (days? You don't know, time's sort of blended together). Aradia's huddled behind your most recent companion, a 'bro-bot' named Dirk from the futuristic post-apocalyptic wasteland, looking at the said robot for anything that might needed repairs, more than likely without Dirk's permission, seeing that he's sort of squirming (as much as a robot can squirm), with Gamzee sitting nearby with that large (amazing) grin of his, asking the young genius about her repairs (with Dirk chiming in at certain parts) all while laughing at the robots annoyance and Aradia's persistence. The old guide, Dr. Scratch, is asleep against the lone lamppost, just like you found him when you first arrived.

You want to join them, but your negative thoughts are keeping you from doing just that. So, you turned back to the endless abyss, the notions of impending doom racking through your head.

You really wished these thoughts would go away.

A firm hand on your shoulder pulled you from self-loathing and you glance to your side to see who the appendage belonged to. Sure enough, there was Gamzee, claiming the spot next to you, smiling through his painted lips. As soon as he settled himself beside you, you couldn't help but smile back at him, his mirth, despite recent events, still present as ever.

"Hey." The prince greeted, lethargically, but cheerful, per usual.

"Hey, Gamzee." You respond. His smile grows larger as he scoots closer to you and links is arms around yours, sighing in content. If somebody told you days ago that'd you'd be friends with the prince of Guardia, you'd probably laugh and call them crazy, but here he is, looped around your arm and leaning against you like a couple of lovers at the park.

That analogy brought all kinds of weird thoughts rolling through your brain. You don't know if that's good or not.

"Yanno, brother's awfully quiet up over here. Makes a motherfucker worried." Your mind was brought back to the present by Gamzee's quiet musing. You chuckled and shrugged.

"Just… A lot of things, have happened recently, and, it's a lot to take in…" You trailed off, shifting against him slightly. Gamzee hummed in response as he lifts his head to meet with the timeless abyss you've been watching for the past several minutes.

"It is, ain't it?" He finally replied, his grin only outmatched the one painted around it.

You two fell silent after that, the only sounds being the small 'disagreement' from your other friends behind you. The thoughts of doom still lingered in your mind, with no intention of leaving, but Gamzee's calming presence pushed them further back. Sometimes you wonder, though, how Gamzee can stay so calm, so cheerful, despite all that's been happening. He's been back in time, nearly disappeared completely due to paradoxes you could barely understand, denounced his royal lineage, and witnessed the destruction caused by Lavos, yet he's smiling like there's nothing in the world troubling him.

You want to peer into his mind and figure out his attitude, and maybe learn from it a little.

"You're amazing, you know that, Tavbro?"

His voice startled you as you turn to meet his painted grin once more. "What?" You questioned, blushing. "No, I'm not. You're, crazy."

He laughs in response, "Crazy with the truth!" After his chuckle fit calms down, the prince pokes you on the cheek, accompanied by a 'Honk!'. "It's motherfuckin' true though."

You rose a brow at his antics, "I haven't, done anything to, warrant, that kind of praise, yet."

"You motherfuckin' saved me. You save my whatever-many-times-great grandma, you up and helped those motherfuckin' people in that dome-place, helped Ro-Bro, and you'll help a lot more motherfuckin' people when we up and beat that Lavos motherfucker," just when you were about to argue that no, you're not that great, he clamped your mouth shut with his free forefinger and thumb, "and don't start with that self-loathing noise. Ara-sis says you do that a lot. You're a fucking miracle." He releases your mouth, and you're rendered speechless. Not that it's a hard task, but still.

"Um…" Was you're only intelligible response. Smooth.

Gamzee only chuckled again, before leaning in to place a small kiss to your cheek.

A.

Kiss.

Granted, it wasn't your lips, but it was close enough to cease all motor functions and you're sitting there like a dummy trying to comprehend what just happened, blushing like crazy. Meanwhile, Gamzee chuckles again as he lifts himself off the stairs. He winks at you. "Ara-sis wants to motherfuckin' see you, by the way. Something about a plan or some shit." Oh, now he tells you.

When you finally regain the use of your body, Gamzee is long gone, back with your other friends, and you're left with several burning questions and not enough answers. But you laugh. Laugh, because he's right. Self-loathing is pointless, especially at a time like this. A time when skill and valor are needed. You're not fully convinced, however, those dreadful thoughts still prod at the back of your skull, but they don't bother you so much now.

With Gamzee by you're side, along with your friends, you have all the time in the world to convince yourself.


	2. Bully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's based on the game Bully.
> 
> Small warning for violence and drug use.

You veer your head left and right, being cautious of any Prefects rooming around the school, before digging in your left pocket for your lighter, the Mary Jane dangling from your lips already rolled and secured tightly in the cigarette paper. Bringing the lighter to the tip of the blunt, you flicked the pad of your calloused thumb across the bic, igniting the flame. As the small ember charred the tip of the roll, you inhaled, indulging as the smoke courses through your lungs. You held your breath, waiting as the drug takes effect in your body, taking you to a sanctuary in your mind before it releases you back to the hell on earth you've been in the past year.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you're a student at Bullworth Academy. And you hate it here.

About a year ago, you and your brother, Kurloz, arrived here with nothing but five-hundred dollars, the cloths on your back, and a message from your father ("Keep your asses in line. If you're in jail, I'm not fucking bailing you out"). Both you and Kurlz' were apprehensive about this sudden change of direction, but you both managed to blend in nicely.

And by 'blend in nicely', you mean constantly avoid the bullies that fuck with you and your brother. Because who wouldn't mess with a gangly stoner wearing face paint and his mute twin brother with tattooed stitches across his lips? Kurlz' could get around them alright, he's quite, comes with being a mute you guess. You however, have a to use force to get the asses to back off. It worked miracles when the so called leader of the Jocks ran away with a black eye and several cuts and bruises to nurse.

Motherfucking meatheads. You're no smarter, but at least you know how to fight.

The last of the hit is slowly burning away, signaling you to get your shit together and possibly get to class. Or go to the dorms, you don't feel like dealing with school shit. Sucking in what's left, you toss the remnants in the nearest bin, slowly walking away from your normal hideaway. A few kids skipping class glanced your way, judging, but you don't care. You hardly care nowadays.

Carefully avoiding any Prefects, you come around from the side of the large school to the large courtyard in the front. It's teeming with kids who are skipping, like you, and Prefects, trying to pull them to class. You shrug. If you get caught, you can just run to the dorms. You're faster than these lug weights, and for some reason they don't go in the dorms.

Plotting a route in your mind around the Prefects, you set off toward the dorms, hopefully get in a little shut eye before the next bell. If not, oh well. Halfway to the safe haven known as the boy's dormitories, you catch movement in the corner of your eyes, despite your foggy mind, and you're prepared to make a break for it, until you saw the source. A new kid, with big bronze doe-like eyes and chocolate hair styled to a Mohawk, talking to the assistant principle. You blinked.

The kid's also in a wheelchair. You don't know why, but that fact lingered in your mind stronger than your usual haze.

The assistant principle ended her speech with a wave of her hand and pointed to the dorms, instructing him to change into uniform. As the woman walked away (you jumped behind a wall out of sight to avoid her), the boy looks almost crestfallen as he takes in a shaky deep breath and rolls his up the side ramp and into the dorm.

Your blood pusher pulled it's strings for the boy. You try not to get too attached, however; He won't last a week here.

Nearly two weeks later, and the wheelchair boy is still here, much to your surprise.

You learned that his name is Tavros Nitram. You have him in biology and art. He holds his head down like he's guilty of a crime. He has more visible bruises on his face, arms and neck than you did on your own first two weeks. You bet he has others he won't show. Yet he's still here. Rolling his way down the halls quickly and quietly, hoping not to be seen.

You've concluded that's he's stubborn. Like a bull.

Messiahs, that was a bad joke, even for you.

You want to be friends with Tavros. You wanted to be lab partners with him in bio, but your brother dragged you off to be his. When you looked over to him, he was by himself, gagging like the rest of the class over the smell. You want to stop the bullies, too. The Preps, Jocks and Greasers- they all seem to have a grudge over the new kid for just existing. Best friend Karkat pulls you away from the fray, however, saying that "it's not fucking worth it".

Today, you got your chance. You decided to skip class, not wanting to deal with droning teachers pretending to care about the student population, to smoke a blunt before class. Halfway through your cloudy paradise, you heard little whimpers and slight grunts of pain. You peek out of your hiding place to confirm what you has initially feared: the new kid receiving poundings from the bullies. Greasers, to be exact, lead by one narcissistic Cronus Ampora.

The group of leather clad bullies taunted the handicapped boy, with the side of a few jeers and punches. Cronus kept himself away from the group, not wanting to get his hands dirty (fucking hypocrite), but he gave out instructions to the rest of the crowd to carry out the deed. One of the boys goes to the side and pushes the boy out of his chair, making Tavros cry out hit the pavement with a hard thud. You flinched from your hiding place.

It didn't take you too long to step in. Moving away from your hiding place, the lighted drug ignored in your fingers, cautiously approaching the hostile students. Creeping up behind the greased up asshole Cronus, you tugged his collar backward until his ear was level with his mouth.

"Stop this shit." You hissed. The greaser jerks forward out of your grip and twists to face you, already red with anger.

"The fuck you want, Juggalo?" Cronus spit, the candy cigarette in his mouth nearly falling out. The goons behind him diverted their attention away from the fallen boy and began pooling behind their leader, echoing him.

You gritted your teeth. Right now you have very little patience with these grease monkeys. Even with half the weed in your system, it's still hard not to punch the living shit out of them. You decided to spare the victimized boy behind them a glance. He's huddled in pain on the ground, the pain from all the injuries accumulated the past two weeks catching up to him in full speed. You snarled, but you decided not to resort to violence, for the boy's sake.

You yank the grease brain by the collar back toward you, growling out your next words. "Back the motherfuck off."

"Or what?" He shot, the candy falling from his mouth. Messiahs, that speech impediment of his makes you want to fuck his shit up to next year. But you restrain yourself.

"Or your little motherfuckin' posse here will know about that little motherfuckin' nerd you up and got your like on." You pull him closer, sneering out your next words right by his ear, "Yanno, the guy in the motherfuckin' bright red."

You could swear you heard the greaser's eyes turn as wide as saucers as he shoves you away again, this time his face red with embarrassment first, then back at anger. He scoffed, waving his crew away from the boy. They follow, hesitantly, after a moment of confusion. Cronus points at you and walks off to the garages, before giving you the familiar 'you're on my shit list' look. Like half the school doesn't have your name underlined and the damn list laminated.

Giving them a look of your own, you patter your way to Tavros, who seems to realize that the fuckers aren't bothering him anymore. The boy peeks up at you, and fuck those bronze eyes look bigger up close, like in those weird cartoons Kurlz' girlfriend watches sometimes. But they held fear, something you're too used to. It doesn't suit him.

"P-please… Don't, hurt m-me." He pleaded. You could only laugh, and by the way he cringes backwards, that was the wrong move.

"Motherfucker." He flinches, obviously not too thrilled with your choice of words. "I just up and helped ya from those motherfuckers. Last thing I wanna do is hurt a adorable motherfucker like yourself." Whoops. Didn't mean to blurt out the 'adorable' part, but oh well. It's out there. Nothing can be done about that.

The boy shivers, possibly flustered thanks to you, and you go to bring his chair to him. Tavros tries to protest when you offered to help him up, but you won't have any of that. Careful of his wounds, you lift him from the ground, and placed him securely in his seat, the boy yelping in protest. When he got his bearings in order he turned to you, still apprehensive, but grateful nonetheless.

"T-thank you…" He trails of, like talking is a crime for him.

"No problem, bro." You sport him a messy paint smeared grin, which he shakily returns. The boy barely gets away before you take the handles of his chair and push him to the general direction of the dorms.

"W-where are, you taking, me…!" He barks when you're halfway in the courtyard.

You chuckle, the sound almost grinding out your throat, "The motherfuckin' dorms, bro. You ain't in no motherfuckin' shape to go back to class, so I'm up and helping a brother."

Tavros shifts in his seat. The cutest thing. "Promise..?"

"Motherfuckin' Scouts Honor."

The new kid laughs, and you figured out very quickly that you like it. "You, don't seem like, Boy Scout material."

You laugh along side him, pushing him up the ramps to the dormitories. "You'd be motherfuckin' surprised."

You tell him a lot of things when you both reached your dorm room, from your brother to your deadbeat dad to your pot addiction. And he tells you several things as well, his own brother in a failing relationship at another school, his ex-girlfriend that nearly killed him, his accident that made him lose his legs. It wasn't long after that you two became close friends, nearly inseparable. Every night, you would sit in either yours or his room and just talk until one of you falls asleep. You've even reduced your pot intake for the motherfucker. The bullies were still a problem (it's Bullworth, they're always a problem), but it's nothing a few dirty secrets and wayward fists (without Tavros' consent, but diplomacy as never a strong point with you) couldn't handle. Almost a month later, the asses finally stopped and took the fucking hint, and Tavros was free from the tyranny at long last.

In that month, you asked him out to the carnival in town.

He calls you a dork, kisses you on the cheek and says yes.


	3. Bully (pt. 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still Bully.
> 
> Someone wanted a sequel to the last one.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you are nervous as fuck.

You are currently at the gates of the newly re-opened caravel, shifting from foot to foot. If this were any other circumstance, you would be excited, jovial even. The carnival had always been a haven for you since you came to this dreaded Bullworth, immersing yourself in all the lights and sounds the magical place had to offer, before grudgingly making the trek back to the hell-hole you call home. 

You figured it would be the perfect first date location with Tavros.

Which is why you are a fidgeting mess, to put it lightly. Nearly on the brink of pulling out your hair, you tugged on the collar of your dark purple cardigan, airing out the heat that’s fuming underneath the neat clothes. You honestly don’t care much about appearance, you just throw on your paint, a dress shirt and slacks and go about your way, but you want to make an effort for him, for your first date, so you left out the face paint and dressed up, prompting for a freshly pressed vest and slacks and neatly combed hair, courtesy of Karbro. Good friend, best friend.

At times like this you would smoke, but you refrain from that also, promising yourself that you’d cut back, for him. You wonder if Tavros knows what he’s doing to you, physically and emotionally. 

You were about to break your promise, reaching in your pocket for the extra blunt and lighter you keep for emergencies, before you heard your name being called in the distance.

“Gamzee!”

You looked up from the grass, to see your date, wide eyed and smiling, rolling up toward you next to the gates. He dressed up too; a wrinkle-free brown vest, a dress shirt with the sleeved neatly rolled up to his elbows and his mohawk gelled back. He placed his hands on his lap, nervously wringing them and you had to pinch your thighs to keep from staring. 

He chuckled, eying you up and down. “You know, I wouldn’t have recognized you, if it wasn’t for those ridiculous, purple shoes.”

You laugh, a little bit of your tension drowning away, “Hey, now, bro, dun be knockin’ the Converse.” You eye him up and down, then add, “I wouldn’t have up and recognized you, Tavbro, if it ain’t for the mo- hair.” You quickily cut off the oncoming curse, also promising not to cuss in front of him. You want to be a complete gentleman for your Tavbro. “Then again,” you drawled out, not being able to stop yourself. Fuck you must be very nervous. “There ain’t that many… brothers here that are as cute as my Tavbro.” You finished with a wink and Messiahs you are corny.

Tavros flushed a deep red, dusting his tan cheeks and ou decided that that is too fucking cute not to hug. So you do, kneeling down to his level (careful of your clean pants) and embrace the boy you cared about since the day you met him. He tensed up at first, before softening, throwing his arms around you and squeezing close. 

Tavros pulled away first, bumming you out a little, but his large smile makes it better. He reels back a little before nodding at the gates, “Shall we, um…” The boy stammers and he’s just as nervous as you are. You find that cute.

You nod, laughing lightly before making your way behind him, taking your place on the handles of the chair. Tavros shifts, not used to anyone buy him taking control of his chair. “Gamzee..? I can- I mean, you don’t have to-”

You chuckle, like the very idea is stupid and preposterous, “I know bro. I want to. Gotta up and be a gentleman for my beau, yanno?” From behind him, you could see Tavros’ ears turn red, aand you give yourself a satisfied grin, walking him to the iron barrier between them and their date. 

It turns out that the carnival is more fun when there’s another person with you. The lights and sounds of your personal haven lit up ten times brighter with Tavros accompanying you. The night dragged on with you two fucking around with the games, where you learned that he had impeccable aim at the stalls, and you showed him your freakish strength with the bell, earning the both of you a large sum of tickets for prizes. You both couldn’t go on the rides due to his disability, but you could care less. Can’t get him a cute prize riding a car anyhow. From the corner of your eye, you could see the Preps eye you both down, giving you both quiet judgmental stares.

Like they have any right to, the inbred motherfuckers. You restrain from saying something, however, when you felt Tavros’ hand on your arm, and you realize that you’re here for him. Not asshats like them. You kiss him on the forehead and continue forth with your date.

As time reaches to the point of curfew for the both of you, you both go to the prize tent. There wasn’t much too there that wasn’t typical carnival-ly stuff you’d normally get (except that Vespa. You eyed that one, confused for a few moments). You ended up giving him a white stuff bull with fairy wings. He hugged it tightly, naming it Tinkerbull. You laugh at the choice name. He gives you a purple stripped hat fitted with goggles, apologizing if it’s not good enough. You popped on that motherfucker, beaming at him with hugs and sweet praises. 

Eventually the evening had to come to a close, with you situated across Tavros’ lap, while he steered you both back to the dorms, sharing the last bits of cotton candy and funnel cake both of you indulged on all night. Evidently the dreadful school came to view and you huddled closer to your Tavbro, putting your head on his shoulder, inhaling his strong cologne. He rolled the rest of the way cautiously, avoiding the Prefects out catching kids outside their curfew. Quietly, you both made it inside, laughing at the fact that they can’t spot a wheelchair outside on their bedtime.

He wheels you to your room, nudging you softly with his shoulder. You raise your head to meet his, taking in the soft red blush tingeing his cheeks. You were about to say something, before he placed a soft kiss on your lips. You were momentarily stunned; he’s kissing you and he feels good and he’s normally not this bold and oh, you were supposed to kiss back, so you do that, mirroring his lips against his and you love how he tastes like funnel cake and the peanut butter cookies he had a while ago. Tavros pulls away mush too soon for your liking, but he make it up with a kiss to your nose. He nudged you off his lap and you slowly remove yourself, slightly protesting. You like to be on his lap. You tell him this and he flushes. You chuckled and sweetly kiss his cheek, telling him good night and that you’ll see him tomorrow. He slowly rolls away after tell you his farewell. 

When you walk in your room, you smile and plop down across your bed, still fully clothed, going over the night‘s events in your head. You just had the perfect date with the boy you fell head over heels with. You couldn’t wait to see him again tomorrow, and possibly go on more dates with him.

Maybe Bullworth Academy won’t be so bad anymore.


End file.
